


Heart of Willow

by FireEye



Category: The Last Unicorn (1982)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-25
Updated: 2018-10-25
Packaged: 2019-08-07 06:51:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16403423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireEye/pseuds/FireEye
Summary: This was never the way it was supposed to be.





	Heart of Willow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [track_04](https://archiveofourown.org/users/track_04/gifts).



Rain-slicked leaves slipped under her bare feet.  Pine needles clung to her hair and dress as she pushed her way deeper into the wood.  By day, the trees were on fire under the brilliant guise of autumn; this hour, there was a sliver of moon behind the clouds, and the night was thick and alive all around her.

The dark didn’t deter her.  The forest didn’t scare her.  A unicorn lived in these woods, and unicorns were nothing if not the guardians of young girls.  And every other girl in the village had seen it.  Even the girls who had grown up, and left behind their youth.

Every one of them had seen it, except her.

Her breath caught as a silvery shadow moved between the trees, and she froze.  A branch snapped underfoot, and the white deer startled, bounding off into the brush.  It paused, long enough to look back at her, and she could see it had no horn.

Molly scoffed at herself.  She reached into a pocket of her dress, and held out her hand.  The deer came back, picking its way cautiously, to nibble delicately on the sliced apple she offered it.  It shied away when she reached to touch its ears, and she offered it a second apple slice to make up for it.

The doe went its way; she hers.

She continued on until she reached a brook, gurgling over a miniature waterfall.  In the embrace of old willow roots, she sat quietly to wait, arms wrapped about her knees, feeling time itself slipping away from her.  The moon set, leaving only the stars heralding the approach of dawn.  Water stained her cheeks; not tears, she told herself, but morning dew.

“Please,” she whispered.  “ _Please_.  This is my last chance.”

The only answer was two owls, calling one to another across the brook.

**Author's Note:**

> ...goshdarnit, I made myself sad.


End file.
